Kiss
by samquinnchorddianna
Summary: "I'd kiss you for the rest of my life if I could." Eight kisses that Sam and Quinn share through their life and the story behind each and every one. Enjoy!


**Before I begin on this story, I'd just like to dedicate it to a very dear friend of mine, Hanna. She gave me ideas for the story and also helped me out when I needed it. Thank you Hanna, this one is for you. Also, I didn't proofread this as I finished it at four in the morning, so if there are any grammatical or spelling errors please forgive me. Do review!**

...

_First it was playful, simple pecks_

In the initial stages of their relationship, Sam and Quinn were the typical giggly couple. She was always laughing and he was always the cause of her laughter. The honeymoon stage was one of pure bliss. If you'd asked either of them, they'd both say that it was _the_ time of their lives, realize the reference they'd made to their performance together, and then dissolve into fits of laughter.

Everyone around them could see nothing but happiness.

The pair also shared plenty of kisses. Sam was always eager to give, and Quinn to receive. The shy and hesitant first kiss Sam had given her on her doorstep after their second date is one they will both remember for the rest of their lives, for it was that kiss that sparked the ones after.

When Quinn's mother had left town for the weekend on a business trip and Sam's family went back to Tennessee to visit, she invited him to stay both nights.

They didn't do the deed; they simply reveled in their newfound relationship. Sex would come later on its own. They watched a movie together and bundled up on the couch. Quinn had obviously chosen _The Notebook_ and was in tears by the time Noah and Allie's lips locked. Sam, being a typical guy and failing to see the reason for her tears, simply chuckled and wiped her tears away with the pad of his thumb.

Surprisingly, Quinn was the one who fell asleep first. Sam laughed again and gathered her up in his arms and marched upstairs to her room. He tucked her delicately under the covers and took a minute to admire the view in front of him: a sleeping angel. Not just any angel, _his_ angel. It made his insides dance with glee to know that she belonged to him, and he to her.

Sam then got under the covers with her and took even more time to study her features. Her eyelashes were long and thick, serving to accentuate those glorious hazel eyes that he loved oh so dearly. She'd never really liked her nose much, but he'd always thought that it looked cute, especially when she scrunched it up in disapproval or when tasting something unpleasant. Her full lips were pink and slightly plump from before when she'd dragged him by the collar to kiss her when she'd answered the door.

Smiling to himself, Sam fell asleep.

In the morning, he found himself staring back into the same pair of eyes he'd dreamt about. Then they'd narrowed as her lips curved upward. She leaned forward then, and her lips collided with his. Just as soon as their lips made contact, she'd pulled away. He found her flashing her most mischievous grin at him, one eyebrow raised slightly. Sam leaned back in to reconnect them, and the same thing happened again. She was teasing him! For a third time he tried, she pecked him, and then retreated. It was like a game of cat and mouse.

Sam soon had had enough. He needed Quinn's lips on his, her tongue dueling with his, teeth gnashing together. He needed it _bad. _

So he wrapped his arms around her and trapped her there, then rolled them over so he was hovering above her. Then it was Sam's turn to grin, as he lowered himself to meet her lips.

They played with one another, teasing each other to no end. They were young and in love.

...

_Then Quinn talked too much_

"Sam, why haven't you packed yet? We're leaving in _two _days! Get up!"

Sam continued to lie in his bed, smirking at his girlfriend. She was bustling around his room, picking up whatever laundry or anything that he'd left lying around and then tossing it to wherever she deemed was neat.

"Why the hell are you still in bed?" Quinn whipped around to glare at him, but he simply continued to grin at her, infuriating her even further.

"Would you relax, I don't have much to bring anyway, just a couple of extra clothing and my guitar is all." He said with a shrug. He knew how Quinn loved to be organized and precise. Today he just felt like messing with her. He always got a kick out of seeing her so riled up. He also found it pretty sexy.

Quinn rolled her eyes, reminding him of her queen bee days, "You're _always _like this!" She gave an exasperated huff, "You always assume that everything will be perfect or spot on when you do things which explains why we were late to that party last week because you were too busy looking for your sock! Which, if I may add, is under your bed where I just found it!"

Sam tuned her out. He admired the way her hands would plant themselves firmly on her hips when she was scolding him. He took notice of the way her eyebrows continued to travel up her forehead as if she couldn't believe that she actually had to scold him. Her lips moved, but to him, there was no sound. He wanted to kiss her.

Getting up from the bed, Sam moved toward her, stopping less than three inches from her.

Quinn, not noticing his motives, said, "Are you even listen-" She didn't manage to finish her sentence, for Sam's lips had sealed themselves against hers. Quinn wanted to shove him off her and slap him for interrupting her, but she couldn't. Such was the power he held over her. Instead, Quinn placed one hand on his chest, feeling his muscles underneath, and walked the other to the nape of his neck, pushing him even closer and playing with the ends of his blonde hair.

Slowly, surely, they disconnected. "You needed to be quiet." Sam whispered to her.

"You suck. That's cheating. You know I can't resist you." She softly pounded her fist on his chest, looking up at him through her lashes, lips in a soft pout.

"Still, it's a win-win situation, no?" Sam grinned.

Quinn didn't reply, she simply pulled him in for another kiss.

…

_But with happiness, there are also hardships_

"Why can't you understand that I'm not good enough for things like that? I'm not the studious type Quinn; I don't fit where you belong!"

"It's not about studies Sam! It's a course in photography! Something that you're fantastic at! I've seen some of your pictures Sam, they're _beautiful. _You should go to college with me and just do a course on it!"

The issue of college had been a huge elephant in the room for the both of them for a few weeks now. Sam insisted that he didn't belong in college and would much rather attempt to pay the bills by being a model, having been approached by A&F already. But Quinn said that he was much more than a magazine cover and wanted him to try his hand at professional photography.

Whenever the topic had come close to coming up, Sam had found any excuse at all to either escape the room or find something to occupy himself with that required his undivided attention, much to Quinn's chagrin.

However, he couldn't avoid it this time, not when Quinn slapped an application form right in front of the sheet music he'd been trying to practice.

Sighing, Sam placed the guitar back on its stand before standing up and pacing the room, "I don't see why I can't just be a model Quinn, the pay is good and I might even have a chance to be famous or something!"

Stepping in front of him to make him look at her, Quinn said, "Because you are worth _so_ much more than just a model. You've got a huge talent, Sam! Professional photography is just as much of a career as modelling."

"Is this because you have no faith in me as a model? Is that it? There are so many other better looking guys out there than me in the industry, so you're afraid I won't make it, is that it?" Sam all but shouted at Quinn.

This was a mess. He didn't want to fight. But just the thought of attending college just… _terrified _him. He'd never been good at grades, thanks to his dyslexia. As a result, Sam had developed a sort of phobia over any sort of institutionalized education. In order to cope with the fear, he'd turned to other hobbies. He'd picked up guitar from that, and more recently, photography. To him, there was no complications in photography, you simply press a button, tweak around with a couple of dials and other buttons to make the picture look better. He worked better with simple things. College was not simple.

"You know I have all the faith in you and even more, but Sam, you won't know until you try! Look, if you don't like it after a few months or so, you can drop out or something."

Sam barked out forced laughter, "And then what? Be the loser who dropped out because he couldn't cope? Depend on you for the rest of my fucking life because I'm a fucking failure who can't read?"

This was by far the worst fight they'd had in their relationship. It was tearing both of them apart on the inside, but their stubborn natures refused to back down.

"You won't fail, Sam. Have some fucking faith in _yourself_ will you!"

That stopped the fight. Quinn rarely swore. They hadn't noticed they'd been moving closer to each other throughout their rants. Now they were close enough to breathe the same air. The tension in the silence of the room was sharp enough to cut. But then, a feeling began to swirl around both of them. Instead of wanting to choke one another or slam the door in each others' faces, they'd begin to move even closer. Quinn's chest heaved and Sam's hands twitched.

At the same moment, they surged forward, lips rushing to meet one another in a hurried kiss. Quinn flung her arms around his neck and Sam wrapped his around her slim waist, hoisting her into the air. She curled her legs around his thighs as he walked them over to the bed, still kissing.

It was passionate and angry and mad all at the same time. They needed this. To vent themselves of all the pent-up frustration they'd been feeling toward this issue. Their tongues slashed violently against one another while their hearts yearned for more.

They never really could keep their hands off one another, mad or not.

…

_Not even the sea could cool them_

_This is one hell of a trip, _Sam thought to himself. He couldn't imagine any place he'd rather be than here with Quinn, enjoying the South Carolina sun and admiring the curves on his girlfriend's body.

The bikini she wore left little to imagination, and even though Sam had to share the view with everyone at the beach, he didn't mind as he knew she belonged to him and only him.

Just as that thought came to mind, Quinn bounded over to him and grabbed his hand, "Come on, let's get in the water!"

Sam laughed and allowed himself to be dragged by Quinn into the water. When they were about thigh deep he grabbed her around the waist and ran forward into the water. She shrieked and held onto him for dear life. He dived them both underwater and tried not to laugh at her struggling.

Quinn managed to squirm her way out of his arms and turn around to face him. Eyes still closed, she found his face through touch, and then kissed him.

He was taken by surprise by when he felt her lips press against his. So much so that he almost forgot to kiss her back. He encircled her with his arms, and pulled her close to him, so he could feel _all _of her.

With their lips still attached, they broke the surface of the water. He managed to stand on the sand since he was taller, and she held onto him by wrapping her legs around him, arms on his shoulders. It was a magical moment.

He broke the kiss and placed his forehead against hers, still trying to believe what had just happened. "I love you so, so much."

She smirked back at him, "You've got a situation down there."

He shrugged, "Can you blame me?"

…

_Then there were those in public_

"I can't believe you got us tickets to the Knicks game! Wow!"

_He looks like a kid who got a new toy, _Quinn thought. She giggled then; Sam really was a little boy sometimes.

"Well, you've mentioned once or twice you'd like to go to a basketball game so…"

"But we're only here to visit Rachel and… and… God I love you." Sam swooped down to kiss her.

If she got awards from her man like this every time she made him happy, she'd do it forever.

The seats they'd gotten were fantastic, and Sam was really a little boy at the game. She'd brought her camera along just for this: to capture the moment where Sam was truly happy. Well it was for her to admire too, but she'd keep that to herself.

In between the quarters, the commentator's voice boomed overhead, "And now folks, for our very own kiss cam! Who will be the lucky couple today?"

Sam and Quinn craned their necks to look up at the huge television screen, only to find themselves on it, framed in a heart.

It took a moment for Quinn to register it in her mind, but it fully clicked when she heard Sam's laughter and when the little boy in front of them turned around in his seat to waggle his eyebrows at them.

Cheeks aflame, Quinn buried her face in the crook of Sam's neck, attempting to hide her laughter and slight embarrassment.

She looked up when she felt Sam's breath on her cheek, "Let's give 'em a show, eh?" He grinned at her.

She felt her embarrassment melt away then. She felt like she'd be willing to show the entire world her love and affection for him at that moment. All because he'd grinned at her.

Sam's palm covered her scorching cheek, and he leaned down while she stretched up to meet in the middle. It was a sweet kiss. One that made everyone, even the players, look up. The kiss that the blonde couple in the fourth row shared made everyone feel the love they had for each other.

But for Sam and Quinn, they were in their own word, lost in one other.

…

_Something intimate_

The room was warm and smelled of them. It was painted in a shade of green thanks to the curtains that adorned the windows.

The musky scent of sex and sweat emanated from the only two occupants in the room. They were asleep at the moment, but bound to wake soon. The covers enveloped them like a cocoon, as did their bodies. Her back was to his front, and she was protected by his arms wrapped around her stomach. Their legs coiled around one another like vines on a post. Quinn's hair splayed out like a glorious halo, coating the pillows with it.

It was Quinn's hair that tickled Sam out of his stupor. He woke slowly, eyes creaking open to see a mass of blonde hair. He inhaled, taking in the scent of vanilla and coconut, her favorite shampoo. He'd never tire of waking up to see her, raw and uncensored, right in front of him. To see her in her most natural beauty would be one of life's greatest gifts to him, one he intended to treasure for the rest of forever.

Sam rested his right hand on her waist, intending to wake Quinn. He glided the tips of his fingers down to her thigh, and then brought it back up to her waist, going further up to her shoulder.

She groaned and flipped over to face him. Even with disheveled hair, no makeup and morning breath, she constantly managed to take his away.

"Morning." She croaked, bringing a hand up to rub the sleep from her eyes.

He shifted closer to her, so that their fronts pressed up against one another. Giving her a dirty grin, he greeted back, "Morning, beautiful."

He was in a post-coitus high, she could tell. Especially since they went thrice the night before. She decided to humor him, "You know how to wake a girl up, don't you?" Quinn flicked her eyes to where the covers hid him, indicating Sam's member resting on her thigh.

"Only the best for my girl." He slurred and closed the distance between them, sealing her mouth with his.

It was an intimate kiss. It wasn't hurried and hot like the ones the night before. It was gentle and yet conveyed just the right amount of passion and love. It was Quinn's favorite type of kiss.

As they separated, she asked, "Round four?"

She didn't have to wait two seconds.

…

_The one full of anguish_

It's been a week since they'd gotten the news.

It's been a week since she'd started crying.

Sam never thought that he'd feel something like this. When he was five he lost his pet dog. His dad didn't see little Scruffy as he backed out of the garage.

But this time was so different and so, so much more painful.

How do you love something that hasn't been born? Sam doesn't know, but he did. He loved the child in Quinn with all his heart and he would've given the world and more to see it take his or her first steps or have its first meal. He would die to see a daughter, the tiny replica of Quinn, large hazel eyes and dainty limbs. A boy who had a mouth exactly like his, head of shaggy blonde hair.

But it was taken from him. It was as if his child were being dangled on a string in front of him, and when he reached out to caress and touch it, it was yanked away.

Despite the anguish and pain he felt, Sam had yet to shed a tear.

Quinn cried more than enough for the both of them. She would cry when she saw adverts of cribs on television, when she saw newborns on the street with their parents. _That should be us, _she would think. She'd burst into tears at any given moment.

Sam was lost. He was unsure of what to do. What do you do when you and your girlfriend have just been told that the child that was growing in her belly will never be born? You will never be able to touch, smell, hear or do anything with your supposed-to-be child, because it is gone.

Nevertheless, Sam went into the bedroom to comfort Quinn. She needed him. He had to be strong for the both of them.

She was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the blank television screen. Tear tracks marked her beautiful face, her blonde locks were unwashed and messy. Her frame was slumped, as if she'd given up on living, and was simply waiting to die.

But what jarred Sam the most were Quinn's eyes. They were once bright and vibrant. They lit up his life and they were what he dreamt of. But now… now they were dead and dull. The light was extinguished and its purpose was lost.

He sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her. She leaned into him automatically, needing the support.

Then she looked up at him and asked him something that broke his heart, "Why us, Sam?"

He'd been asking himself that for the past week. Why couldn't it have been someone else, why was it that it had to be them that lost a child?

"I don't know." He replied, his voice cracked, and barely above a whisper.

Sam felt her palm against his chest and looked down at his girlfriend. She was looking up at him, fresh tears falling from her eyes. At the sight, he could hold back no longer. The emotions he'd kept in check since the doctor's office came rushing out, as if a floodgate had been opened.

Sam cried harder than he ever had in his life. He didn't know for how long, but he knew that Quinn and him simply held each other and let out all they had to.

When his tears subsided, he looked up to find Quinn staring at him. Without warning, she leaned forward and captured his lips in a searing kiss. It wasn't passionate, nor was it filled with love and affection. This kiss was _sad. _It was a kiss to convey her feelings, that she was utterly decimated by the news, that she was completely shattered on the inside. However, the kiss was also filled with a glimmer of something unexpected: _hope._

It was to say that no matter what happened, they would get through it together.

…

_And lastly, the best of them all_

Sam was sweating bullets. Standing up on the altar wasn't as easy as it looked. There were precise locations for him to be standing and for him to step later. He was also trying to remember his vows correctly and not muck it up later.

With all this running through his mind, it was easy to tell that Sam was a wreck.

He couldn't stop fidgeting, and constantly adjusted the flower on his breast pocket. He kept shifting his feet, as if there were hot coals underneath.

Puck, his best man, noticed this and leaned over, "Dude, you gotta stop moving around, you'll cause a freaking earthquake." His attempt at humor earned him a dirty look from Sam.

"How the hell did you get through this with Santana?" Sam grumbled. He was there, and Puck was nowhere near as nervous as he was. In fact he was the calmest of the lot, even some of the guys up there with him were more anxious.

"Well, don't tell her, but I had a drink before the ceremony to calm my nerves. Covered up the stink with breath mints and mouth wash." Sam chuckled. Typical Puck. "That's not to say I wasn't nervous though. I was. Damn near ready to drop my ballsack on the ground and hightail it outta that damn place. But I calmed myself by thinking about our story. Like how we met and got together blahblahblah. You'll be fine bro, you got this." With a knuckle touch to his shoulder, Puck took his position again.

Sam took his advice and began to think about his and Quinn's story. He thought back to how they met, their first date, first kiss, then him asking her to be his girlfriend. He moved on to other memories; their first time, first trip together, when he asked her to marry him. He calmed down then, knowing that he'd be devoting his life to loving the girl of his dreams forever. He'd start a family with her, grow old with her, and then watch their grandchildren run around with her.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

When the music played and she appeared, he couldn't breathe for a few seconds. She looked so beautiful. Words weren't enough to describe the way she looked. So he watched as she made her way down the aisle, to stand across from him.

He did everything in a trance. He said his vows, as did she, then slid the ring on her finger. While reciting his vows to her, he saw a tear fall from her eye and felt his own burning up, but he forced them back.

Then he heard the words he'd been waiting for all day, "You may kiss the bride."

Sam lifted her veil to reveal Quinn's face. He'd never forget today. It was the best of his life.

Cupping her face in his hands, Sam lowered his face to hers and kissed her. It was the sweetest kiss he'd ever had. Maybe it was the emotions swirling around the entire room, but then again, he didn't really care about the room, only about her.

Parting from her, his lips tingled. "Well then, _husband,_ to the rest of our lives?"

"Gladly."


End file.
